The Last Dance
by singsongyylove
Summary: House discovers Cuddy's secret hobby, and with a bet decides to join in. Huddy! Disclaimer: House and it's characters are, sadly, not mine... DARN. Nor is the song...SHOOT! [LAST CHAPTER UP]
1. A Strange Habit

**Chapter 1: A Strange Habit**

House was mesmerized by the spinning silver mobiles hanging from Cuddy's ears. He had never quite understood why women wore earrings. Watches he understood. They had a purpose: to tell the time. But earrings had no apparent purpose, other than to entertain whatever person happened to be looking at them. All boring women should wear earrings as peculiar as Cuddy's were, he thought. His life would be far more interesting.

"House! You're not listening to a word I'm saying!" Cuddy snapped, pulling House away from his thoughts.

"Does that surprise you?" he snapped back. Cuddy grumbled something before pulling up the sleeve of her sweater to look at her watch. House looked at his own. One thirty.

"Alright," she said pointedly, "I have to go. But I want your ass in the clinic right now."

House watched her swiftly clack her way back to her office. He looked back at his watch again. It was Thursday. He'd noticed that Cuddy had gotten into the habit of going somewhere every Thursday around this time. She was always gone for about two hours and came back looking slightly disheveled. Her hair was a bit messy and her makeup was slightly smudged. He'd asked her where she was going, but she gave him her smug smile that he despised. He'd even tried having Cameron ask where she had gone, but Cuddy wouldn't tell her either. He knew something was up. He just couldn't figure out what.

He was still standing there when Cuddy came back out of her office and to the elevator with a large bag over her shoulder.

"Did I not make myself clear enough?" He realized that he probably looked idiotic, "Get into the clinic. Now!"

He steadily walked over to get into the elevator with her. Cuddy fiddled with her keys until they reached the ground floor. House rounded the corner towards the clinic. He waited only about twenty seconds before turning back around and following Cuddy out into the parking lot.

"Where are you going?" He turned around to see Foreman standing numbly in the doorway. House ignored him and walked ever so discreetly to his car. He didn't need to; it was raining so hard that Cuddy wouldn't have noticed him anyways.


	2. Unexpected Visitor

**Chapter 2: Unexpected Visitor**

House found that it happened to be very difficult to follow Cuddy's car during a downpour. Hell, he thought to himself, she might as well be driving an invisible car. He thought he had lost her once or twice, but he always caught up with her.

They were driving through a part of town that House did not recognize at all. Where was she going anyways? He hoped he had stumbled upon some steamy secret relationship of hers. Oh, the blackmail! He smirked, thinking up all the things he could convince her to do for him. House simply could not wait to walk in on Cuddy and her new man.

They turned onto a little road lined with small businesses. There were at least 20 boutiques and 10 cafés. House continued to wonder where she planned on meeting this lover of hers. Cuddy stopped quite suddenly and made a sharp turn into the parking lot of a small building. House could not see for the life of him what the sign in front said. He drove around the block anxiously. As he slowly pulled past the building where he could see Cuddy's little car parked, he strained his eyes to read.

No way, House thought. This could not be. He turned around and drove past again to see if he was imagining things. Nope, he had read the sign correctly. "Patterson School of Ballet" it said, in large, clear letters. House could barely contain himself. Lisa Cuddy, MD, in a ballet class? Surely not. Cuddy couldn't dance, he was sure of it. He drove around the block once more to calm himself. This is just where she's meeting him, he said to himself, this is where she's meeting the secret lover. She can't dance. She isn't dancing. That simply couldn't be it.

He slowly pulled into the parking lot, right next to Cuddy's car. He walked inside as fast as he could. Soaking wet, he shoved closed the large oak door. He peered at his watch. It was two eleven. A blonde haired woman sat at a desk directly in front of him. He looked at her unenthusiastically as she briefly smiled at him. He walked around her desk and started down the hallway behind her.

"Excuse me sir?" she said. House turned to look at her inquisitively. "Um, sir, are you looking for someone?"

"Yes actually," House said mockingly, "I'm looking for that pain-in-the-a boss of mine. Her name is Dr. Cuddy. Do you know her?"

The blonde woman looked confused, but her eyes lit up when she heard the words "Dr. Cuddy".

"Lisa!" she beamed. "She's in studio five. Go to the end of the hallway and turn left. It'll be right there."

House did not answer, but wondered how this woman seemed to know Cuddy so well. He inched his way down the hall, deep in thought. What had he gotten himself into? He turned to the left and there was a door with a small window. He peered into the room. The walls were covered with mirrors and the floors were wood. He stood speechless as he watched Cuddy finish off what appeared to be a sequence of several turns. House simply could not believe what he saw. Lisa Cuddy, MD was not being taught ballet. Cuddy was the teacher.

House couldn't take his eyes off her as she shouted commands to her students. She smiled as she praised one of the students. Who knew Cuddy could dance? He watched her demonstrate and the students, who varied in age from fifteen to fifty, tried to emulate her delicate movements. He must have been standing there for at least ten minutes when he noticed her eyes grow dark. She was staring straight at him, and for once in his life, House was genuinely scared of Cuddy. He felt like he could have just died on the spot.

She stopped the class and solemnly told them something that House couldn't make out. Cuddy was walking straight towards the door as her students looked at each other in confusion. House backed away from the door. He nearly tripped over his cane. Cuddy stepped out into the hallway and closed the door firmly behind her. He looked her up and down. She was wearing a tight fitted black camisole and loose black pants that had been rolled up.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Cuddy was madder than he'd seen her in a long time.

"I… I…" House couldn't get a word out. He was furious and frightened at the same time. How did Cuddy suddenly become so terrifying? He wanted to slip out of this trance and become his old cold self again.

"Hmm?" Cuddy's face didn't falter.

"I… you dance?"

"Yes, I dance. Now that you've figured out your mystery and disturbed my class, kindly go back to the clinic and do what you should be doing."

House pulled himself together again.

"Why are you teaching this class anyways? It's not like you're short on money or anything. You're a doctor, for god's sake!" House had begun to regain his normal disposition.

"I'm teaching it," Cuddy said indignantly, "because I want to. And because I can."

"What would you say if I taught a ballet class? Couldn't be that hard. I bet I could."

"I bet you couldn't make it in my ballet class for a month."

House smirked as he considered the challenge. Cuddy certainly didn't seriously want him to come to her ballet class, but now that she didn't have a secret lover after all, he had nothing better to do than prove her wrong.

"How much?"


	3. A Needed Victory

**Chapter 3: A Needed Victory**

House couldn't get the image of Cuddy dancing out of his head. When she walked, he imagined her prancing, when she swiveled around in her chair, he imagined her spinning, and when their eyes met, he saw her class watching her intently. He was looking forward to his first class with her in two days, but he also dreaded it. He couldn't wait to see her do more of those crazy spins and jumps and who knows what. He just didn't want to do it himself.

He heard that steady clicking that signaled Cuddy's arrival. House pondered all possible ways of getting out of clinic duty, but before he thought of anything good, she was standing right in front of him. He looked up to find those students of hers looking at him again. A small smile crept over her face.

"We haven't decided what I get when you lose the bet," she said smoothly.

"Well, what would you propose?" he turned his head and looked at her apprehensively. He could almost see the slow wheels turning in her head. Her face told him that she had nothing.

"How about," he thought aloud, "if I win, you do anything I want for 24 hours. If you win, vise versa."

"Too bad slavery is still illegal in this country."

"Who said we were obeying the law?" he could see those wheels turning again. Her soft face twisted to express her deep thought. She quickly turned on her heels and strolled over to the door. She looked back at him before leaving.

"Anything?" she shot him a playful smile. Surprised, House hesitated for a moment.

"Absolutely anything," he returned her that playful smile of hers.

"Deal." She quickly padded off, leaving him in peace.

House reflected for a moment upon what had just happened. That mischievous smirk played over in his head. That wasn't typical of Cuddy. One thing he was sure of though: he had to win that bet. God only knows what she would do to him if he had to do whatever she wanted for a whole day. Endless clinic duty- that was what.

Cuddy appeared at his door again, interrupting his thoughts. She was mouthing something. House gave her puzzled look.

"Clinic duty!" House could tell what she was saying as clear as day. But he continued his confused gaze until she poked her head in the door and said "To the clinic, Dr. House."

Yep, he thought to himself, better not lose that bet. Far too much is at stake.


	4. The First Trial

**Chapter 4: The First Trial**

House looked at his watch. It was one fifteen. He sighed to himself and looked up at Cameron, Foreman, and Chase. Chase was writing something on Cameron's papers and Foreman was staring past him out the window. They were worse than high school students in lecture. He cleared his throat, demanding their attention.

"House, we have to go!" Cuddy had peered into the room. All three of his students looked at her, then back at House in unison. He refrained from snickering at them.

House waved the three of them away. They all stood in unison and hesitated before breaking the unbearable silence. They chatted about the case House had been discussing, but he knew as soon as he left the room that their conversation would quickly turn to their weekend plans. House shook his head.

Cuddy was still standing at the door. She stared at House, not amused. When their eyes met, she motioned with her head for them to leave. House grabbed his cane off the white board and toddled back into his office. Picking up his jacket and bag, he followed Cuddy to the elevator.

"Whose car?" he turned to Cuddy after the elevator door had closed.

"Mine." She said unwaveringly. She took no notice of House looking at her questioningly.

"Do you think I'm a bad driver?" he pretended to look hurt.

"You might say that, yes." She laughed softly at his look of despair.

"Okay, but if you drive then I get to control the radio. And that means we're listening to," he paused. After knowing her for so long, House aught to know what kind of music Cuddy did and didn't like. He took a guess at what would annoy her the most. "We're listening to the country station!"

"Goody!" She said sarcastically. He had guessed correctly.

After twenty minutes of Tim McGraw and Keith Urban, House was relieved to recognize the "Patterson School of Ballet" sign a few blocks away. He probably hated the country music more than Cuddy. As they pulled closer to the building, he slowly examined it, as he had not been able to in the pouring rain. This bright day allowed him to see the pepto bismol pink bricks and windows that were coated in brightly colored stickers.

"Ready?" Cuddy was smiling deviously. The music abruptly disappeared as she switched off the car. His ears alleviated of their pain, he looked back at her and grinned.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

House lifted himself out of the car, pulling his bag behind him. After holding the door open for his new ballet teacher, he followed closely behind her.

"Hello Lisa!" It was the same blonde-haired woman who had greeted him last week. She turned to him, "I know you! You were here last week. New student?" She turned back to Cuddy.

"Oh yeah," she glanced at House for a moment, "this is Hou… Greg. Greg House. He works at the hospital with me."

"Dr. Greg! I'm Georgia, nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Georgia," he looked at Cuddy, slightly amused.

They walked down the familiar hallway, and turned left. Instead of walking into studio five, Cuddy stopped in front of a large swinging door that said "Women's Changing Room". She pointed to a door a few feet away that was labeled "Men's Changing Room".

"I think you'll be the first one to ever use it!" She smiled over her shoulder as she disappeared to change.

House emerged clad in navy basketball shorts and a white tee shirt. Cuddy was correct in assuming that he was the first to use the changing room, it was spotless. He entered the studio to find that he was clearly missing the essential footwear. But he quickly forgot that when Cuddy motioned for him to come stand next to her. He could see eyes following him up to the front of the room. He turned to find the women of various ages sitting on exercise mats, peering up at them anxiously.

"Class, we have a new student, as you can see. Care to introduce yourself?" Cuddy donned a fake smile as she looked over at him.

"Hello. I'm Greg."

"Hi Greg!" One outspoken teenager shouted from the back of the class. Calm laughter spread across the room. Cuddy's fake smile became genuine.

"So clearly, Greg is not dressed appropriate for our class," Cuddy joked to the class, "but, I suppose we can let that go due to that it is his first day. Grab a mat, kid."

After ten minutes of stretching (which had highlighted the fact that House was not flexible), they stood up to begin. House discovered that ballet was clearly not meant for crippled people. Leaping was out of the question for him, and balancing on one foot proved even more difficult. Comparing himself to Cuddy's examples, it was clear that he was shaming the art of ballet. Cuddy moved with both strength and grace, and went so quickly without mistakes. His curious mind longed to know where she had learned this.

"Gregory House!" She woke him from his thoughts, as Cuddy often did. "Your arms are all wrong!"

He looked around at the class. Their arms were out in a circle in front of them, their hands steady and elegant. He looked down at his own. His arms were drooping.

"Sorry Lisa." He smiled sheepishly. Trying to keep up, he set his arms out, parallel with the floor.

"Still wrong," Cuddy frowned and slipped over towards him. Her hands were cold as she shaped his arms to look like the rest of the class. Her touch running down his arms sent chills through him. "Relax your hands," her words were soft and concentrated, "stand up straight." She stood next to him and demonstrated. As he copied her, she slowly twisted her lips into a smile.

"Very good!" Cuddy's soft voice turned into cheery praise. House dared not smile, he worried that might set him off balance. Looking up into her eyes, he saw her passion for the sport shining through. She nodded and backed up and leaned against the front wall.

After Cuddy dismissed the twenty students, House quickly retreated back to the changing room. He thought over the last hour. Cuddy's cool touch, her approving smile, the way she glided across the wood floorboards- it was all new to him. Back in the clothes he had arrived in and carrying his black bag with him, he returned to the studio. Still dressed in a fitted tee shirt, pink tights, and black shorts, Cuddy was fiddling with the CD player. He silently walked over next to her.

"How was it?" She asked offhandedly, without looking away from what she was doing.

"Fine," he looked over at her, "I don't think I was built to do this sort of thing," he pointed to his leg. "You were very good, however."

"Why, thank you," Cuddy looked away from the CDs she was studying.

Their eyes met as they stood in silence. Oddly enough, the silence wasn't uncomfortable. House saw a small swift smile linger at her lips as he leaned towards her. His lips collided with hers as her smile disappeared. Hers were warm and soft as he questioningly danced his tongue across them. Her tongue glided across his as he slid his hands unto her lower back, pulling her closer. Feeling her cool hands crawl up his neck, he saw the smile growing back again. He rested his hands back at her hips, caressing her soft lips again. Cuddy gradually pulled away and gazed at House with her head tilted sideways.

"What was that all about?" She looked at him knowingly.

"Apparently, ballet turns me on."

Cuddy rolled her eyes and let go of him. She stalked off to the door, but just before opening it, she paused to gaze at him once more. Exiting the room, she left him alone. He smiled. She knew just as well as him that he had wanted to do that long before today.


	5. Aching, But Not Quite Broken

**Chapter 5: Aching, But Not Quite Broken**

"Sore?" Cuddy teased as she met House, limping even more slowly than usual across the parking lot. The truth was House was sore, very sore. Probably, he had taken more Vicodin since he had gotten home last night than he usually took in a whole week- but not that he had to tell Cuddy that.

"No more pain than the usual," he stopped to pull out two more pills out of his pocket. Cuddy raised her eyebrows in suspicion.

"Stretching would help," she laughed as she strolled quickly inside, leaving him to his own devises.

House slowly found his way upstairs to see the three musketeers sitting around the table. True to form, they appeared to not be talking about the case at hand. He entered the room.

"So, what have we got?" he look down at the three.

"We found a tumor in her liver," Cameron looked back up at him.

"But that still doesn't explain-" Chase stopped short when House started laughing at Cuddy pretending to be giving him ballet instructions from the hallway. The three of them slowly turned to look at what was going on behind them. Cuddy quickly switched to her hospital administrator self and motioned for them to turn back around. Looking up at him in confusion, the three silently begged for an explanation from House.

"What?" he pretended as though nothing had happened, "keep talking to me."

It was eleven as House wandered off to find more coffee. Unexpectedly, he heard the familiar voice of a good friend.

"House?" Wilson called from his office. Peering into his office, House saw Wilson sitting at his desk, eating a banana. He had never been fond of bananas, and he laughed.

"What exactly is going on?" Wilson appeared as though he was attempting to stare him down.

"What do you mean by that?"

"First, Foreman sees you following Cuddy out one Thursday afternoon. Then, you two disappear together at the same time the next week, and now, ever since you two returned, you're laughing and joking about something that the rest of us just don't understand."

"Okay, okay," House walked over and sat down in one of the large chairs across from Wilson's desk, "So we had sex in room two o six. It's okay, don't worry. I washed the sheets from the bed."

Wilson sighed and took another bite of his banana.

"Really, House." Wilson's eyes followed him as House stood.

"Did you know," House looked off out the window, "that Cuddy can do ballet?"

"That's what she's been doing on Thursday afternoons?"

House opened his eyes wide and nodded. They paused for a moment so that Wilson could think it through.

"And why are you going to watch her do ballet?"

"Oh, I'm not watching." Wilson took another few seconds to process this new piece of information.

"So you are doing ballet with Cuddy. Why?"

"Because, she made a bet that I couldn't," he looked down at Wilson's apprehensive expression, "and because if I can make it for one month, then she has to do whatever I want for 24 hours."

"House," Wilson put his head in his hands, "if you want to get some, why don't you just ask her on a date? It's easier. It's faster."

"Not a bad idea James," House grinned at him, "I'll try that out."

Wilson looked up in horror as House exited. He spoke quietly to himself.

"Cuddy does ballet; House is about to Cuddy on a date- what's next? Foreman and Cameron are tennis buddies?"


	6. You Told Me To

**Chapter 6: "You told me to."**

"So, Lisa," House did feel like wasting any time, "what are you doing tonight?" He leaned against her desk, looking down at her.

"Any particular reason I would want to tell you this?" Cuddy slowly closed the file as she studied him.

"I'm going to assume that means 'nothing,'" he said, keeping his face as expressionless as possible, "So how about you come to dinner with me?"

Cuddy sat motionless. Her voice had left her. She had always been waiting for this day, but always hiding it with a tone of anger and annoyance. Did he see right through it? She prayed to herself that this wasn't a joke.

"That's a yes," House pushed away from the desk and began to walk away, "I'll pick you up at six thirty two sharp." He hummed 'Qué Será Será' as Cuddy stared, stunned, at him walking out down the hall. He smiled to himself, even though he didn't quite know what had compelled him to just go ask her out like that. He didn't really want to sleep with her- not unless they were really in a relationship. Sleeping with her would just make the nagging about how he was so incompetent at his job worse. Despite all the jokes about Cuddy's a, he just figured that, for now, it wasn't a good idea.

So why did he ask her out? That kiss maybe. He hadn't been sure why he did that either. He was just so overwhelmed by the new side of Cuddy. But she had kissed back. Her lips were so soft, her hands so cool. He sat down at his desk and closed his eyes, going back to imagine it.

"Okay House, now what is really going on?" House, startled, opened his eyes to see Wilson looking at him condescendingly.

"Jimmy, you've gotta be more specific when you say that."

"Did you just ask Cuddy out on a date?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You told me to."

Wilson threw his hands up in the air as he stood there stuttering for a moment. His eyes looked at House, wide with disbelief. All at once, Cameron rushed in.

"She just had a seizure," she managed to get out in between deep breaths.

"Who?" House replied thickly.

"Our patient!" Cameron didn't see that he was playing around, "Who else would I be talking about?" She looked curiously at Wilson, who was still staring at House in disbelief. House turned to him and smirked.

"Gotta go. People dying."


	7. Ready, Set, Go

**Chapter 7: Ready, Set, Go**

Cuddy sat at her couch, facing the large window panes that looked upon the small plot of yard she had. The windows were open, allowing the calm breeze to just barely reach her and the sounds of the streets fill her, distracting her from envisioning the coming evening. She wore a dress that came just below her knees. It was black, laced here and there with floral designs. A black ribbon came just below her bust line and was in a neat bow at the front. The severe black heels were ones she had owned for a year or two. By now, she knew that they could do her no wrong. They were perfect for all occasions. About two inches tall, they were round toed, and went with almost anything.

The slow chime of the doorbell made her stomach nearly fall to the floor. With the careful precision that only years of walking in heels could produce, she wound her way to the door, polishing off the rest of her red wine and leaving the glass to be retrieved later from the small table in the hall.

House could not resist laughing at the expression on Cuddy's face as her eyes fell upon him. He had exchanged his tennis shoes for some shiny black ones that were rather uncomfortable. His shirt was ironed, and he had gone to great lengths to make it so. He had to resort to asking his elderly neighbor to borrow her iron and ironing board, which resulted in a waste of thirty minutes listening to her talk about her first date.

The only thing that indicated House had not been possessed was the stubble on his face- which House would have shaved, had he not spent that half an hour next door.

"Hey," Cuddy said as the shock wore off. House pulled away his sleeve to look at his watch.

"Six thirty two. Right on time."

"Impressive," Cuddy glanced at the clock on the wall, "if only you were always this punctual."

"I wouldn't depend upon it continuing."

"Of course not," the smile on Cuddy's face said 'I know you only too well.' They stood for a moment, both wondering what the other was thinking.

"Let's go," House turned down the steps back towards his car. Cuddy followed him, thanking him as he opened the door for her. As he started up the little vehicle, she looked over at him and smiled, devilishly almost.

"What?" he could almost see what was coming.

"If you're driving, I get to control the radio."

"I guess so," he raised his eyebrows as he turned back to the steering wheel, "take it away."

Cuddy had turned the radio to NPR, which House didn't mind. He saw her looking for his reaction out of the corner of her eye. He allowed the corners of his mouth to curl. Satisfied, she leaned back and gazed out up into the sky. It was no longer day, but the sun wasn't quite setting. She could see a sliver of the moon smiling at her.

House had chosen a restaurant nearby, and they were there in less than five minutes. It was an Italian restaurant. House knew you couldn't go wrong with pasta. He stopped the car and accompanied Cuddy to the door. He didn't even bothering if this was okay; it was obvious from her eyes that she was holding back a smile.

"I've never been here before," House leaned over the table closer to Cuddy, "Wilson suggested it. Who knows if it's any good?" She smiled, concealing her teeth. She buried her face behind the large menu, pretending to be very interested in the appetizers.

"What are you going to get?" House said after a few minutes of this. Cuddy simply looked up and shrugged. His eyes followed her every move; her foot tapped underneath the table and she squirmed in her chair.

"You haven't said much," House stated questioningly.

"Wondering what this is all about," Cuddy didn't smile. House did quite know how to respond. She seemed to think this might have been a trick, and he didn't want to mess this one up by confirming her suspicion. He slowly planned the right words to say as she looked at him, sternly almost.

"Lisa, I barely ever see you not in a lab coat or behind your desk signing my paycheck. Maybe this whole ballet thing just made me wonder what else was hiding in there."

"This isn't about my ass?"

"Not about your ass."

"Okay," she noticed that their voices had been reduced to a whisper. She glanced at the menu once more before summoning more strength to her voice and saying "I think I know what I'm going to have."


	8. Watching

**Chapter 8: Watching**

By the time the food arrived, House had decided that this restaurant was the perfect place to people watch. He and Cuddy speculated as to whether the couple next to the window were on a first date and if the woman eating shrimp was cheating on her husband. Cuddy was clearly enjoying the conversation; she laughed every time House made up a tale. Cuddy's laugh was more of a chuckle; it was almost silent and her shoulders shook as she bared her teeth. House didn't laugh, he merely smirked subtly.

"What do you think people would say about us?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows and looked at him intently.

"If they were people watching us?" Cuddy nodded, "They would say that you are a real estate agent and I'm a novelist, that we met at a wine tasting, and that we've been married ten years."

Cuddy looked shocked momentarily, and then crossed her arms on the table and leaned towards him, looking at him even more intently.

"Then they'd see that your left hand doesn't have a ring, and would probably assume that I'm one of those who is afraid of commitment and just hasn't bothered to propose, even though you've been hinting about it for years."

Cuddy chuckled again.

"What do you think they'd say?" House played with his food mindlessly.

"I think that's probably about right," Cuddy grinned as she watched him fiddling with his fork.

They sat drinking their wine and talking for what seemed like a very long time. House regretfully asked for the bill after the waiter had come around for the tenth time. With the classical music playing on NPR filling his ears, he chose to take a longer route to Cuddy's. He almost feared what would happen when they arrived. Should he kiss her again?

"Well House, I had a nice time," Cuddy said thoughtfully.

"See you tomorrow?" House leaned against the brick while Cuddy was unlocking her door. His leg felt like it was throbbing. He had forgotten to take some Vicodin before he had left home. He knew this wouldn't be an appropriate moment to reach for some, so he simply tried to ignore the pain.

"See you tomorrow," Cuddy confirmed after she had opened the door.

House stood upright and started to take a step back towards his car, which was humming cheerfully.

"House," he turned to see that Cuddy had not gone indoors yet, "again sometime?"

"Okay," he smiled sideways, peering at the moons reflected in her eyes. Sooner than he could expect anything, she reached up and touched her lips to his, holding his face with her right hand. In that short second, House felt the pain in his leg disappear as her smell left him wishing that he could kiss her again.

"Bye," Cuddy reached for the doorknob and chuckled again.

House watched her slip inside, noticing on the clock behind her that it was eight forty five. The moment the door clicked shut, a shot of pain leapt through his leg again. He reached into his pocket, pulling out two pills, and let the pain slowly linger as he made his way back to the car.

House left the radio as it was, driving home slowly and watching the stars still begin to appear. What he would tell Wilson, that he did not know.


	9. Just Another Day?

**Chapter 9: Just Another Day…?**

House veered straight for the elevator at the sight of Wilson, trying his best to avoid an interview about the details of last night. Waiting there, frantically pressing the "door close" button repeatedly, he watched Wilson stroll over and slip into the elevator just as it closed. Defeated, House stood in silence, avoiding his friend's curious eyes. He knew that Wilson was looking for any sign that something had happened- down to the slightest change in expression.

"So, how was it?" Wilson said calmly and carefully.

"Gossip time!" House put on his best impression of a thirteen year old girl.

"House," his friend did not look amused, "really, what's going on? I know that you didn't just do this because I told you to, and I don't believe you got in bed with Cuddy last night. Is this something serious?"

House looked at the ground, his face softening as the oncologist spoke. He glanced up at his friend before drawing his focus back towards the carpet. The quiet, contemplative, sincere look in his eyes was something rare indeed. It told Wilson one thing; something was really going on.

"Nothing's going on," House looked at him momentarily once more before stepping out of the elevator.

House was already halfway down the hall before the door to the elevator had opened the whole way. He entered his dimly lit office to see the three musketeers sitting around. They all turned to look at him for a brief moment, all of them totally silent. They knew. Cameron must have dragged it out of Wilson. Personal wasn't personal anymore with those three around. Trying his best to pay no attention to them, he looked around nonchalantly, and saw outside that Cuddy was walking towards the door, wearing a low cut floral blouse that House didn't recall ever seeing before.

"New case," Cuddy handed him a file.

"Woohoo!" House said with a sarcastic smile. Cuddy just rolled her eyes and turned to walk away.

"Cuddy," House gripped her wrist lightly to pull her back. He turned his head away so that his three partners couldn't read his lips, "They know. Wilson does too." He let his hand fall to his side and looked her straight in the eye.

"House," Cuddy returned his stare with a look that said 'that's no surprise', "the entire hospital knows." She leaned up on her toes and whispered into his ear, "We mustn't give them the wrong idea, though." She gave him one devious smile before leaving the room.

Glancing down at the file, House wondered what exactly she had meant. Barely prepared to face the three, he flung open the glass door and tossed the file onto the table.

"17 year old girl. Spontaneously lost the ability to speak. Gets dizzy spells. Starring in school musical two weeks from now."

"Neurological problem," Foreman stated blankly, reaching across the table for the file.

"Go solve the problem. Foreman- do a MRI. Cameron- go ask the mother if the kid has had any blows to the head recently. Chase- go ask Cuddy if ballet shoes come in men's size 11."

All three of them stared at him in total shock. They had believed the two had gone on a date, but House and Cuddy doing ballet together- they thought was just a rumor. Maybe he was just playing with them- but maybe not.

"Go on," House looked at them fiercely. They carefully filed out, Chase walking rather slowly and aimlessly. House limped over to his desk, carefully placing his legs on top of a pile of papers as he reached for a tennis ball to throw around as he thought.

'We mustn't give them the wrong idea, though.' House supposed that meant that she didn't want to bother hiding whatever was going on between them. Cuddy was probably right- hiding wasn't the way to go. It was a shame that the entire hospital knew he was doing ballet though- he would probably be the butt of every joke for the next year or so.

A few minutes later, House saw Chase coming out of the elevator. Cameron was following close behind. They both came in and stood in front of him and House threw the tennis ball to the Aussie.

"The mother said that the girl has fallen a few times during practice," Cameron declared with knowledgeable authority, "but she wasn't aware of any serious incidents."

"And Cuddy said she would take care of footwear," Chase stated, trying to sound as serious as he could. House nodded slightly, taking his feet off the desk.

"Good."


	10. Thursday Again

**Chapter 10: Thursday Again**

House could feel the hospital buzzing with tales about him. Nurses glanced at each other and laughed as he walked by. Anyone around stared every time he talked to Cuddy. Wilson questioned him at least once a day about what was happening. Even one clinic patient had giggled when he told them that his name was Dr. House.

"Right now I feel like a fool," House stood in Cuddy's office, clad in a brand new pair of ballet shoes she had called him in to try on. They fit perfectly.

"Well, take comfort, you look just the way you feel," Cuddy couldn't help but laugh as she leaned back in her chair and admired this mismatched look. Ballet shoes and a cane- that was irony for you.

"Very comforting, I must say," He turned at the sound of a door opening. Cameron and Foreman stood in the doorway, their stomachs in pain from holding in their amusement.

"Have you come here to stand there and giggle, or do you actually have something to say?" House acted as though this were an everyday occurrence. Cameron managed to speak between gasps of laughter.

"We'll come back later."

They left the room, bursting into uncontrolled laughter as soon as the door closed behind them. As soon as they were out of sight, House turned back at Cuddy, who was slouched back into her chair, picking at her nails.

"How about we go out to lunch before heading off to class?" Cuddy said, her eyes moving from her hands, to the clock on her desk, up to meet House's curious smile. She sighed. "My treat."

"Well, I can't just turn down free food," House shrugged, "let's go!"

Cuddy decided to go to a sushi place close to the school. They spent the time in the car chatting about the reactions of their coworkers to the news that they had been doing ballet. They agreed that the ducklings' were the funniest. They arrived, jumping out of Cuddy's car and squeezing into the tiny sushi bar that was no bigger than House's kitchen. They sat back in the far corner, the only table available. House had never really been a fan of this sort of thing, but he didn't feel like protesting. Cuddy ordered something with salmon and pineapple.

"I have no idea what any of this is," House stared down at the yellowish piece of paper that constituted the menu.

"Just have the California Roll. It's the simplest thing. You'll like it."

The small Japanese man came took their order before hurrying off behind a curtain that lead to the back. Cuddy sat upright in her chair and smiled at House, as though she expected him to say something. House had just barely opened his mouth when techno music started playing from her purse.

"Oh. My cell phone," she looked at her purse, suspiciously almost.

"Go ahead, no problem," House was just curious as to who was calling her at one in the afternoon on a Thursday. Cuddy reached into her bag and pulled out a sleek black phone- the kind he thought looked like it was from a James Bond movie. Looking at the screen on the front, her eyes widened and she glanced up at him.

"This'll only be a second," she flipped the phone open and held it to her ear, "hello?"

The woman on the other end talked quickly, only pausing long enough for a response of "okay," or "mm-hmm." Cuddy looked down at her plate as she listened, her expression locked in a state of surprise.

"Okay, sounds good. Love you too." Cuddy began to close her phone.

"One more thing!" House heard the woman shout. Cuddy looked up at him, annoyed and apologetic. Leaning back in his chair, he smiled forgivingly. After another minute of constant chatter, she said goodbye again and Cuddy hung up. "So sorry," Cuddy slipped the phone back into her purse and hung it on the back of her chair, "my mom. Apparently, she's coming here for a convention or something this weekend. Wants to have dinner with me Saturday."

House had never met Cuddy's parents, let alone had he really been given any sign of their existence. He wondered if her father would be coming too. He'd like to meet the people who had produced the woman who sat before him.

"Want to come along?" House was paralyzed, surprised. Introducing him to her parents seemed like the last thing that Cuddy would do. "It's fine if you don't," she clearly regretted having asked.

"No, no. I'd love to come," he smiled weakly before looking, afraid, down at the food the waiter placed before him.

"Oh, come on," Cuddy laughed at House's suspicion of what was in front of him, "it won't bite you."

"You can never be too careful."

"Odd thing to be hearing from you."

Smiling at her, House picked up his chopsticks to face his meal. They were mostly silent while they ate; only briefly commenting on the food or another customer. House ended up enjoying the sushi, and even tried a little of Cuddy's. After she swiftly paid at the counter, they left silently and walked down the street to the ballet school. Georgia was sitting at the desk in front, as usual, greeting them cheerfully.

"I see that Dr. Greg isn't giving up!"

"Oh no," Cuddy grinned sideways at him, "he wouldn't do that."

Class went similar to last week. House felt even more ridiculous with his rather large ballet shoes on. Every time Cuddy looked over at him, she could help laughing at his embarrassment. She could at least feel a little bit of pity for the crippled man, he thought to himself. She only made him feel more inadequate, effortlessly soaring across the room, the light catching her long eyelashes, and the soft curls of strands of hair that had escaped her hair tie flying behind her.


	11. Cuddy Sr

**Chapter 11: Cuddy Sr.**

"Lisa! How are you? What have you been doing? Who's this?" Blair Cuddy's sentences seemed to run together to make a jumbled mix that was nearly impossible to understand. Her pale lips moved deftly, her clear eyes focusing on House but still moving constantly, taking in everything around her. Her hair was the color of honey, but the same wavy mass that her daughter had spent the past hour taming. The three stood in the entryway of Cuddy's home, House standing awkwardly, peering over Lisa's shoulder to look at the shorter, older Cuddy.

"Uh, Gregory House," Cuddy looked from her mother to House and back again, "Dr. House. He works at the hospital with me."

"Lisa, why didn't you tell me we would have someone accompanying us? I would have dressed nicer!"

"Sorry," Cuddy said mindlessly. She was looking surprised at her mother, who was leaning towards her to whisper something. Helping her, she bent down towards her.

"Is this Greg?" House pretended to look at his watch, straining his ears to hear her words. "Greg from Michigan? That Greg?"

Cuddy had already said things about him to her mom? What could she have said? Nothing had happened between them while they were in school. What would she have told her mom? House quickly looked up at the ceiling, realizing that he probably was looking horrified at the time.

"Mom," Cuddy's tone was as cold as ice. House hung upon the quiet moment, knowing he was probably missing something by not looking at their faces. "Yes," Cuddy sounded reluctant and most likely had realized that he could hear every word they said, "it's the same Greg."

House looked straight at his boss, now very curious to know what she had told Mrs. Cuddy. The two looked back at him.

"So, where are we going?" he smiled at them innocently.

"You'll see," Mrs. Cuddy led the way out to the car. He reached to sit in the back seat, but she motioned for him to sit in the passenger seat.

"Lise can sit in back, can't you, honey?"

Mrs. Cuddy sat down in her seat. House looked over the roof of the car at Cuddy with desperation. He was met only by her look of slight amusement. They both slipped into the small car and buckled themselves in. The sound of the engine filled the car as they drove along back streets wordlessly.

"So," Mrs. Cuddy finally spoke, "what do you do, Greg?"

"I'm a diagnostician."

"Ooh, I bet that's exciting."

"I suppose it's better than treating a certain kind of patient. Then you just do the same procedure over and over and wait for them to all get better. I deal with all kinds of problems, and it's still questionable if they'll get better when I have them."

"You're in it for the mystery."

"It's like a puzzle."

She looked over at him, at small smile of approval on her face. Her eyes snapped back to the road and she quickly turned into the parking lot of a Spanish restaurant that House had drove by a few times and always wondered about. They slowly made their way across the asphalt and into the building.

"Blair!" House jumped at the sound of a booming voice coming from his left. A large woman emerged and gave Mrs. Cuddy a large bear hug. They stood talking, and House looked over at Cuddy, who wasn't surprised by this. It didn't look like this was going to be a brief conversation, so House led her outside and stood on the porch of the restaurant, salsa music playing softly above them.

"Mom's just a little high strung, isn't she?"

"You should see her right after she has an espresso," Cuddy raised an eyebrow as House grimaced at the thought.

"How does she already know who I am?" House inquired and her face twisted into a confused gaze. "'Greg from Michigan'… what'd you tell her about me?"

"Well, we were friends, after all," Cuddy said with a clear tone, "so obviously I mentioned you to her."

"Sounded like something you were embarrassed about before," House teased.

"Oh yeah?"

"Sure you didn't mention that I was the sexiest guy in the whole school?"

"House," the edges of her mouth curled, "I wouldn't lie to my mother like that!"

"Cuddy, just tell me what you said that I did!"

"I didn't tell her anything about you."

"Well then what did you say?"

"Nothing."

"I want to know!"

"I said, nothing," Cuddy was clearly tired of the conversation.

"Lisa."

"If you must know," Cuddy sighed, annoyed, "I liked you back when we were in school. That's what I told her, which was the biggest mistake; because she asked me about Greg every single time that she called."

Wait, House thought. His jaw had dropped while processing this. She had just said it like it was nothing in the world. He had never known that she had any feelings for him at all. He didn't even know if she did now. Thinking back on his days with her at school, he tried to remember if she had ever shown any sign that she would have been interested in him. Nothing. He could think of nothing. "Is she good or what?" he thought, "she can put a façade over just about anything."

"You-" he started.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you-"

"Oh, you know you would have laughed at me."

"I'm not laughing at you now," House said, defending what little honor he had.

"I hate to interrupt your conversation darlings," Blair Cuddy seemed to come out of nowhere, and both House and Cuddy jumped when she spoke, "but our table is ready!"

Mrs. Cuddy spent the appetizer instructing House on what he might and might not like. He was told to keep away from that, it was far too spicy. Definitely consider this, it's delicious. After they had safely ordered and the waiter had escaped the older woman's constant questioning, she turned her attention to her daughter.

"So, what have you been doing lately, my little Dean of Medicine for a daughter?"

"Well," she looked helplessly at House, "I mean, nothing exciting."

"She's been teaching a ballet class," House threw in, smiling at Cuddy. She shot him a look of animosity before turning to smile and nod at mom.

"Oh, Lisa! I didn't know you still did that sort of thing after high school! That's great!"

"Oh, of course. And he's taking my class." Cuddy mouthed laughter to House, who gave her back her own look of hatred.

"Really?" Mrs. Cuddy's voice spiked, surprised and pleased. "Greg, that's great! But how do you- with the," she pointed to his cane, "you know?"

"It's not that difficult."

"He has some trouble, but _so far_," she caught a glimpse of him looking rather put out, "he's been doing just fine."

The waiter hesitantly carried out three plates of food, setting them down before each of them, and running away hurriedly to avoid conversation. House took the first bite, and found that his food was actually quite spicy, despite that Mrs. Cuddy had said it wasn't at all. Cuddy caught his look of horror and let out a quiet gasp of laughter; however, her mother was much too engaged in her food.

"So," Cuddy Sr. couldn't stand silence, even for more than three bites of food, "how long have you two been going together?"

House looked from her to Cuddy and back again. They hadn't really talked about being together, in fact, he hadn't really thought on it much at all. Were they together? They had gone on a date or two and Cuddy was introducing him to her mother, so they were, he supposed. On his first glance, Cuddy looked back at him questioningly, but the second time he looked back at her, she smiled, and underneath the table her soft hands and long fingers intertwined with his and squeezed softly, as if to say "go ahead."

"Oh, a while," he quickly turned his attention to Mrs. Cuddy, still holding onto the hand under the table, slowly feeling over her veins with his thumb.

Mrs. Cuddy nodded and smiled carelessly looking back and forth from the two pairs of blue eyes. She spent the rest of their dinner making talk about the first time she went to this restaurant, her flight earlier that day, and what a great dancer her daughter had been when she was younger. They drove back to Cuddy's place with her choice radio station playing quietly. When they arrived, he thanked Mrs. Cuddy, who told him that it was nothing at all and proceeded to give him a big hug, much to his displeasure. He walked back toward his car and was almost there before feeling that cool hand slip into his again, swinging him around.

"Thank you for coming. I owe you."

"Going to come back to my place?" he smiled down at her like a full of it fifteen year old boy asking the prettiest girl to dance, confident she'd agree.

"I think not," she laughed and turned to go inside

"Cutting back on my clinic hours?"

"Not so lucky this time," she called behind her.

"You're a witch!"

"Don't you make me cast a spell on you, House." She reached the door and looked across the yard at him, "good night."

"Good night," he stated and watched her slip inside and close the door firmly behind her before climbing into his car and driving away.


	12. Laws of Relationships

**Chapter 12: Laws of Relationships**

"You what?" Wilson shouted, astonished.

"Jimmy, what's the big deal? I just met her mother."

"House, you're defying all the laws of relationships."

"And you should know. You've been through it all, what? Four times now?" House relaxed as he leaned farther back in his chair, feet on his desk. He watched his friend pace frantically in front of him.

"First off, no one ever goes out with their boss. And second off, no one ever meets the parents until _after_ they've had sex."

"How do you know we haven't had sex?"

"House, this is serious," Wilson stood still and looked him in the eye, "she likes you. A lot."

"No one can help liking me after they've gone to bed with me."

"What are you going to do? You have to talk to her."

"I talk to her every day, Jimmy. After all, she is my boss."

"Do you really want this? Because if you screw around with her, you are going to get fired."

"All I did was go to dinner with her and her mom!" House bellowed quite loudly, which he immediately regretted as Cameron and Chase entered, clearly having heard.

"Whose mom?" Chase said casually, pulling his bag off his shoulder. Cameron turned and gave him a look that said "who do you think?" He looked from House to Wilson and then back at Cameron before realizing.

"Oh. What was she like?" Chase looked back at House, still quite oblivious to that all the other people in the room seemed to find this a sensitive subject.

"She talked a lot," House pulled his feet from the desk, dragging his cane along as he stood. He had grown tired of discussing this. He burst from the glass door, nearly slamming into Foreman as he exited.

"What's going on?" Foreman gaped.

"Apparently, I broke the rules by going to meet Cuddy's mother," continuing to limp down the hall, he didn't even have time to appreciate the stunned expression on Foreman's face. He didn't want to listen to Wilson lecture anymore, and he certainly didn't want to attempt to ignore the questioning glances of the three members of his team. Right now there was one person he could stand to see.

Lisa Cuddy.


	13. Visit to the Boss

**Chapter 13: Visit to the Boss**

The blinds were closed when House got to Cuddy's office. Wondering what she could be doing or who she might be talking to, he looked around. He hesitated a little before rapping the door with the end of his cane. He heard a muffled moan.

"Come in," she called weakly. He did. Her face was red with marks shaped like the edges of papers and her eyes hung half open. A few tangles were being quickly smoothed out with her fingers. "Oh, it's just you," a wave of relief came over her and she didn't bother to finish fixing her hair.

"Were you," House paused. He looked curiously at her, "sleeping?"

"My mom sat up talking all night long and wouldn't go back to her hotel," she rubbed the side of her face and leaned into her hand, gazing up at House.

"Miss Dean of Medicine, sleeping on the job," House smiled deviously at her.

"What do you want? You have a case, go figure out what's wrong with the girl. Catch up on clinic hours. Bother Wilson. Go, go do something."

"Stop trying to get rid of me!"

"Well I've been sleeping for," she glanced at her watch, "two hours, so I have things that I need to catch up on."

"Can I ask you something first?"

"What, House?" she continued to gaze at him, absorbed.

"Are we together, for real?" there was nothing but total seriousness on his face.

"I thought so. Do you want to be?" Cuddy was not phased, keeping her words light.

"I love you," House said with certainty.

This, on the other hand, did surprise her quite a bit. She opened her mouth, but no words came. Looking up into his deep, blue eyes, she wondered how long he had been waiting to say that. She sat upright and slowly she brought herself to a standing position. Sleep no longer plagued her. Wide-eyed, she strode around the desk, one hand dragging along the smooth wood. She stopped in front of House, her face inches away from his.

"I suppose that means yes," she smiled.

House put one hand on Cuddy's waist. His lips pressed against hers, the soft, deep red ones that he was eager to memorize. Eyelashes fluttered against his face as her eyes closed and her hands slid across his chest and held onto the collar of his shirt. Their tongues slid over each others and in their growing fervor, House let go of his cane and allowed it to fall to the floor. His free hand then slid underneath Cuddy's top to feel her flawless, smooth curves. Without skipping a beat, she skillfully unbuttoned his shirt and he allowed it to fall off his arms to the carpet. Her hands then slid underneath his tee shirt to feel his bare chest. She reluctantly pulled her face away from his.

"I love you too."

She pulled the plain white tee shirt off over his head before pulling him back into the passionate kiss. In her eagerness she bit his lower lip and he smiled slightly as she apologized during a short breath. Once again his tongue met hers, and he explored as he decided that her shirt had to go as well. He, just as deftly, undid the small buttons of her blouse and as it too fell to the floor, he weaved his arms around her and pulled her bare skin to his. She kissed him even more fiercely, and he slowly moved away from her lips and kissed the skin of her neck, moving down across her chest. She shivered from the feel of it. When he reached the place between her breasts, he stood back upright and began to unzip her black pants, looking straight into her clear eyes. As though it was a reflex, her hand came off his shoulder and stopped his hand from going any farther.

"Not here," she whispered, "not now."

As though she had predicted it, a knock came on the door at that very moment. They both instantaneously took their hands from one another. Cuddy bent down, snatching the three clothing items from the floor, handing House his. They frantically pulled them back on and House picked his cane off the carpet, standing innocently and watching Cuddy straighten her hair out. He limped over to the door and opened it, making a show of it and dramatically motioning for scared nurse to enter.

"I will see you later Lisa," he looked seductively over at Cuddy, "and don't sleep with your head on the desk anymore. It's bad for your neck."

"Trust me, I won't."

House closed the door firmly, and just as he did, Cuddy was opening the blinds while talking to the young nurse. She smiled out at him and he hobbled off to order around his team.


	14. Good Morning

**Chapter 14: Good Morning**

"So, House and Cuddy are pretty serious now?" Foreman said, collapsing into a chair after finishing an MRI on their latest patient.

"I guess so," Cameron replied meekly while pouring some coffee for herself.

"He hasn't been so irritable lately," Chase offered. Cameron nodded in agreement.

"Sometimes he even seems," she considered the right way to describe him, "cheerful."

"He's been distracted," Foreman said disapprovingly. He eyed the steaming coffee in Cameron's hand, "not working on our cases."

"He still figured out about the girl with the psychological problem," Chase defended.

They all sat in silence again for a minute. Foreman made his way to the coffee machine and poured himself a mug as well. He sat again, and only a few seconds later, Chase stood and did the same.

"He doesn't seem much more graceful from the ballet, though," Chase mumbled as he walked back towards his chair at the table.

"I'd pay good money to see House do ballet," Foreman announced after laughing at Chase's statement.

"I wonder how Cuddy got him to do that," Cameron thought aloud.

"Bribed him with a little love-making?" Chase joked.

"Probably so," Foreman said with a little laugh.

Cameron shuddered and gave them a disgusted scoff. Silence lapsed again. Foreman picked up his medical journal, Chase went back to his crossword puzzle, and Cameron picked up their patient's file again. The three sat quietly on that windy Thursday morning as the wind picked up outside. After only a few minutes, Wilson crept through the door to House's office, causing Cameron to look up at him cautiously. Wilson was searching through papers on House's desk, unaware of the ducklings' presence. Cameron closed the file and glided into House's office as well as Foreman and Chase watched her stand over Wilson, observing him as he finished fumbling through papers and proceeded to his friend's computer.

"House hasn't come in yet," Cameron provided, startling Wilson.

"I know," he took his attention away from the task at hand to look up at Cameron, "neither has Cuddy."

"You don't think they're together, do you?"

"I'm looking for some sort of hint that they would be."

Cameron looked at her watch. It was ten ten. Cuddy was rarely this late, although House being so was not out of the ordinary. She dismissed it as pure coincidence that Cuddy happened to be late on the third day this week that House had come in long after eight. She left Wilson to his snooping and went back to sit with her two colleagues.

"What's going on?" Chase asked, his accent surprisingly strong.

"Cuddy hasn't come in yet either."

He looked at Foreman, both of them suppressing laughter, and then turned back to his "work".

Ten minutes later, Wilson was still sitting at House's desk; however, he was no longer looking through things. Rather, he seemed to be contemplating something as he stared at the ceiling. Cameron looked up from her work and stared out through the blinds, which were just barely opened. She was surprised to see her two bosses standing just on the other side of the glass wall there.

"They're here," she said without taking her eyes away from the pair. Chase and Foreman looked up as well, and all three stared open-mouthed as House leaned down to kiss Cuddy briefly before she rushed off to her office. They all turned quickly towards Wilson, who was also watching from his perch in the office.

House entered his office to find his best friend sitting on the edge of his chair behind the desk.

"Did you two come in together?" Wilson interrogated.

"Yes, why?" House replied innocently.

"Because you're nearly two and a half hours late! What were you doing?"

"Sleeping. I was up late last night."

"What'd you do last night?" Wilson said as he stood, allowing House to sit in his place. The three watched carefully from the next room.

"I had a date," House was calm as he took off his jacket and threw his bag on the floor.

"Did she sleep at your apartment?" he raged, incredulously.

"No, that would be against the fifth law of relationships," House mocked, "no sleepovers on weekdays." Wilson simply stared at him. "What? I checked out that book with all the laws in it. A good read, I must say."

"House," Wilson warned.

"She didn't!" He defended, "I picked her up this morning and we had breakfast." House got up again and walked towards his ducklings, who gaped on the other side of the glass.

"Good morning," House called as he pushed the door open to see what his little fellows were up to.


	15. Time to Dance

Okay, that took a while. This one I had quite a bit of writers block. I hope it satisfies! R&R? smiles innocently

* * *

**Chapter 15: Time to Dance**

"Greg, I recognize that you're the best doctor in this hospital," Cuddy said, trying to keep her voice down, "but you don't know what this woman has. Do you have any idea how this medicine could affect her if she's got something else?"

"That medicine," House pointed to the little bottle of pills in her hand, "could save this woman's life!"

"It could also kill her."

"She'll die if I don't give it to her!" House was outraged. Cuddy knew just as well as he did that this was the only option, and she was still fighting with him.

"Well you'll just have to tell her that she's going to die because you don't want to take the time to get the proof for your diagnosis."

"We have to start treatment now! If I'm right, she's going to be dead by Saturday morning!"

"This conversation is over," Cuddy let the pills drop onto her desk, "send your team down here. Maybe they can make a better argument for your case."

House left the room in a huff. How many years had they been having that same conversation over every case he had? House always turned out to be right, or at least he thought so. Why did she have to argue with him every time?

"Cuddy wants all of you in her office," House announced without even looking at the three he was addressing. He went straight for the coffeepot and filled the red mug so that it almost overflowed. They all looked at him, then at each other, and slowly filed out of the room.

House filled the chair that Cameron had left behind, settling in, cane in one hand and coffee in the other, he stared at the daunting list of symptoms listed on the white board. He tried to focus on the scrawled words, but his mind wouldn't stay put. Eyes floating to the window, his thoughts drifted to Cuddy. How odd things were between them. One second they were at breakfast talking softly about things they loved and the next they were in her office yelling at each other just the way things had always been. Cuddy never could stay mad at him for very long, and he couldn't ever bring himself to keep fighting when she smiled up at him fondly. He thought about their next ballet class this afternoon. Cuddy had threatened that he wouldn't make it past this week, but he was determined to win this bet. Having her under his control for an entire day? When would an opportunity like that ever come again?

A beeping noise vaguely entered his awareness, but only after a second more of staring into the distance did he realize that it was something he should pay attention to. His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out his pager. It read, quite simply, "L. Cuddy".

He made the trek back to Cuddy's office, knowing she had probably planned to call him back down after only five minutes just to torture him. He saw his three ducklings sitting helplessly on the couches in her office as Cuddy reigned above them, talking in surprisingly calm manner.

"You rang?" House called as entered.

"Do your treatment. And you and I have to be heading out."

"After I go back up and get my bag and come down here again, I will have made the trip between your office and mine five times in less than twenty five minutes. Do you have any idea how much pain you're subjecting me to?"

"Oh, bite me. It's not like you're taking four flights of stairs or something."

"Crippled!" House pointed to his leg.

"We have elevators in this building which are conveniently located in the hospital lobby, a whole twenty limping steps from here."

"Thirty!" House loved it when they joked like this, even if it did annoy Cuddy a whole lot.

"Poor thing," Cuddy replied curtly, and with mock compassion.

"Some people are genuinely sympathetic towards those who are not blessed with fully functioning appendages."

"Be out at my car in five minutes," Cuddy pulled a duffle bag over her shoulder and with a flourish, left the four of them in her office. House hurried away to get his clothes and make it out to Cuddy's little car. He collapsed into the passenger seat and gave an exhausted sigh. She watched him apprehensively as the car started up.

"Going to pick the music today?" She seemed to be hopeful, trying to avoid the decision of what music to play for him. He pressed buttons on the radio, though on autopilot, leaving it on an alternative station. A song played that he didn't recognize, but it didn't repulse him, so he withdrew himself back into his seat as Cuddy gave a satisfied smile.

She drove quickly, one hand on the wheel and one lying delicately in the space separating House from her. He sat quietly, eyes flicking between her and the road. As the voice of a young woman sang a sweet melody that managed to be both upbeat and mellow at the same time, Cuddy glanced back at him and smiled to find him staring. His eyes stayed focused on her as she continued to drive. The smell of her perfume was circulated through the car and it calmed House, and made him drawn to her. His hand, taking on a mind of its own, crept to enfold hers. She smiled and allowed him to cradle it comfortably.

Time, he thought. How strange that things go like this. People sit around and wait for the right moment, the right time. Cuddy waited twenty years for a time when he would feel things towards her. Little did she know, for quite a few of those years, he had been waiting for her feel the same for him. Was it finally the right time? It seemed like this had started before they even knew it would. Long before now he had been getting jealous when another man even looked her way. Long before now she had been doing whatever it took to keep him nearby and far from harms way. Maybe their bodies had been telling them that it was the right time for a long time, but they just wouldn't listen.

Cuddy was clearly very skilled and experienced at driving with one hand, because she didn't take her hand away from House's grasp for even a second. His strong, but gentle, grip made her chest feel airy, her stomach tried to digest something that wasn't there. What had made him feel this strongly so suddenly? And why didn't it worry her at all?

The car braked abruptly and Cuddy swiftly pulled into a parking spot in front of the pink brick building, carefully extracting her right hand in order to pull the car into park and switch it off. Dropping her keys into the purse in the back seat, she found that House hadn't moved an inch, and was simply watching her. She raised an eyebrow at him, and then hopped out of the car, grabbing her bag and her purse from the back seat. House followed her past Georgia's office and proceeded towards his respective changing room.

"Oh, House!" Cuddy called teasingly. He turned to look at her suspiciously. She produced a plastic bag from her duffle and handed it to him.

"This was definitely not part of the agreement," he protested as he peered inside the sack.

"The agreement was that you could _make it_ for a month in my class. _Making it_ includes wearing the appropriate clothing."

"Lisa, I am **not** going to wear tights."

"Fine, guess you've lost the bet then," she bounded into the dressing room.

House stood outside the swinging wooden door, considering his options. He could leave right now; accept that he had lost the bet. He could go to class in the shorts and shirt he had brought with him and fight her. Or he could just wear the pink tights and spandex… thing that Cuddy had brought for him. The problem with his first option was that calling Wilson to come get him, stealing Cuddy's car, and sitting in the lobby until she was done were not nearly as dramatic as he needed. His second option was no good because even if he did keep coming through the rest of the month, she wouldn't accept losing the bet because he hadn't worn her ballet clothes.

So he was left with one option.

Cuddy breezed past him as she entered the room, her head turning so that she could watch him as she passed by. His face was blank, head burning from all the staring young people surrounding him.

"Oh!" Cuddy said, just remembering something. She turned to a scared House, staring him down. She walked back to him and snatched the cane from his hand. "I apologize for this, but unfortunately we are not doing vaudeville here, so no derby hats," she paused and looked around the room as though someone in a derby hat might jump out of the mirror into her ballet class, "and no canes."

She gave House a devilish smile and returned to the front of the room, setting his cane down against the wall. She began, smiling cruelly back at House every once in a while, but he could tell she was also watching him closely to make sure that he didn't hurt himself. Now and then House leaned over to rest his leg, and each time Cuddy paused to look at him, waiting for him to come back to life. He looked up and gave her an annoyed glare, to which she simply replied with a smile, continuing to teach.

"Okay everyone," Cuddy clapped her hands together after finishing one last combination. "We'll finish early today. Have a good week." All of the students scurried from the room while House limped up towards Cuddy.

"May I have my cane back?"

"I suppose so," she sighed with pretend annoyance, handing it back to him. She looked over him, entertained. "You should wear that to work."

"As though I'm not attractive enough in what I wear normally, you want me to show off my abs and toned biceps?"

"Mmmmhmmm," she hummed with her lips pursed as she moved her hands across his chest and up around his neck into his hair. She pressed her lips against his, holding the back of his neck and pulling him closer to her. He granted her tongue access to his, his hands reaching to close the space between them. She smiled and stepped away from him.

"Plus, every time that happens," she pointed to his lower body, "it's pretty amusing for the rest of us."

House looked down to find a bulge showing through the spandex shorts. He sighed and looked back up, but Cuddy was already exiting the room, laughing quietly.


	16. Unexpected Visitor for House

(flounders helplessly in the miles and miles of fluff and smut) There's so much fluff that I'm drowning!!!!!! Haha, enjoy it. I'm headed out of town on Sunday. I probably won't get a chance to write for about a month. I've got camp, then I've got a church trip, then I've got a vacation up north (gosh, away from the deadly heat, thank the lord!). One more chapter may be possible before I leave, but if not... see you guys in a month!

I'm going to take this oppurtunity to remind us all that all characters from House, M.D. are property of Fox and you shouldn't sue me because I'm pretty. And nice.

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**Chapter 16: Unexpected Visitor for House**

House sat on the couch, watching monster trucks race on the screen in front of him. It was a clear Friday evening, maybe around six. He was beginning to get a bit hungry, but felt too lazy to get up and make something. So there he sat, spinning the remote around in his hands, staring at the television.

A loud ring awakened him. He'd dozed off temporarily, not finding the races on television interesting enough. He stared over at the telephone with contempt. Most likely the team calling him to annoy him with useless information or inform him the patient was stable. They always seemed to think being stable was a good enough reason to disturb him at home. He should change his phone number.

"Greg House. How may I assist you today?" he said in a flight attendant voice, unintentionally sitting up straighter.

"You could start by opening up the goddamn door," said a familiar voice. House grabbed his cane and made his way to the door as quickly as he could, swinging open the door to his apartment to find Cuddy holding her James Bond cell phone up to her ear and observing him with a sultry smile. She snapped the phone closed as he pressed the end button on his and threw it back on the couch.

"I've only been knocking for two and half years."

"I was asleep. You hungry?"

"Yeah," she said, now looking a bit scattered. He opened the door wider so she could come inside, "I just came from work."

"What'd you come here for?" he closed the door, and then made his way to the kitchen as Cuddy removed her jacket. He immediately felt afraid that this had come out as something interrogative rather than curious, but Cuddy saw that he wasn't annoyed by her presence.

"I felt like it," she sighed, following him into the kitchen as well.

"That's as good a reason as any," he pulled out a saucepan and filled it with water, setting it on the stove to boil.

"You're actually making something?"

"Only pasta. That's okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine," she shook her head and sat down on a stool, "I just didn't know that you knew how to make something more complicated than a sandwich."

"I can make sauce too if you want," he replied as though it were the most amazing thing. Cuddy gasped jokingly.

"Sauce? You have quite a talent, Dr. House!"

"I know," he pulled out another saucepan and a jar of basil tomato spaghetti sauce, "watch me work my magic!" he poured the jar into the pan and flipped on the stove.

"That's amazing," she laughed, getting up to pull out two plates and two sets of silverware. She set them out on the table and stared at the TV for a few minutes. "Napkins anywhere?" she said blankly.

"Paper ones. Over in that cabinet," he said, pointing.

She pulled them out and threw them on the table, and then sat on the stool once again, watching him stir the two pots on his stove. Looking down at her hands, she fiddled with her watch, closed her eyes, and leaned against the wall behind her. For a moment she merely stared at the inside of her eyelids, feeling over the carved designs in her watch.

"Okay?"

"Oh yeah," she said without even flinching, feeling him closer to her, "I'm fine."

"Good. Because the pasta's ready."

House grabbed the strainer from the counter, placing it in the sink. Steam filled the kitchen as he dumped the spaghetti in it. Cuddy stood behind him, enjoying the feel of the warm droplets settling on her, watching him pour the spaghetti into a bowl and carry it and the sauce out on the table. She sat thoughtfully in her chair, House serving spaghetti onto her plate.

"Uh, tell me when to stop," he said carefully. She didn't realize she had been staring at his face. She looked down at her plate.

"Oh gosh, that's plenty."

She scooped some sauce on top of her pasta and spun it around her fork as House sat across from her. She took one delicate bite and smiled knowingly at him.

"The sauce is a culinary masterpiece," she said with divine understanding.

"I'll tell mom that you like her secret recipe."

They sat quietly, so quietly that they could hear their bites and swallows. She smiled weakly at him each time their eyes met. His eyes followed the smooth shape of her long arms, the soft curl of her hair in the dim light, and the way her broad chest revealed her collarbone, delicately defining her shape.

"Greg?" she said with an air of thoughtfulness and sadness.

"Hmm?"

"They want to fire me."

"Oh?" he looked at her with as much emotion as he would ever show, a bit of astonishment in his eyes, "Who is they?"

"The board."

"Because of…" he trailed off, she nodded. Yes, because of their relationship. House was left utterly speechless. They couldn't do that. That wasn't any of their business. No one could do Cuddy's job like she could. This was no basis for firing her. They simply could not.

"They can't do that," he stated simply.

"Yes, they can. They say it clouds my judgment."

"Do you want to-"

"No," she interrupted him, not even wanting him to think about letting this change what they had. He sat in silence for a moment, swallowing carefully.

"What are you going to do?"

"Try to convince them otherwise."

House took a deep breath inward.

"I'm sorry."

Cuddy looked at him with a wide-eyed look of what could almost be described as horror. House had never apologized for anything in his life. Or he had never apologized to her, and there were many times at which she had deserved an apology. Not now though, this wasn't his fault. What had happened to him? Now he was apologizing for things he didn't do? This wasn't the House she knew.

"Did you just apologize?" she said, beginning to laugh.

"Yeah," he replied with embarrassment and hilarity playing at his lips.

She stood, that sultry smile spreading across her face once again. She stepped around the table in one motion and leaned down, planting a passionate kiss as she cradled the sides of his face with her icy hands. She felt over his smooth teeth with her tongue, tickling him, sending tingles down his spine and through his arms and legs. He came back, pressing his lips against hers harder, soaking up all of her essence. Moaning softly into his mouth, she slowed herself, and then finally broke the bond between them. She looked amorously into his bright eyes.

"You taste like spaghetti," she said plainly.

"As do you," he replied. He looked across the table, "Let's put this all away."

"You're done?" she looked at his plate. He had barely eaten anything at all.

"Are you?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he said, standing up abruptly and picking up his plate to carry it to the kitchen. He rinsed off dishes and handed them to her to put in the dishwasher. When everything was finally up and away, Cuddy stood and looked at him with her arms crossed. He returned her stare, leaning on his cane.

"What now?" she said promptly.

"I have movies," he suggested.

"Any that aren't Girls Gone Wild?"

"Maybe one or two," he said, motioning for her to come with him.

After much deliberation, they decided on a scary movie, something with Jodie Foster on the front. It was still in the plastic. House had bought it a few years ago and never watched it. They went back to House's room to watch it, due to his claim that the TV in there was larger and the bed would be more comfortable. Despite Cuddy's suspicious glower, she removed her heels and climbed into the bed next to him, sitting cross-legged under the covers, all the lights turned out and the movie playing an ominous beat. She looked over at House staring hard at the screen, leaned over and kissed his rough cheek, then laid her head on his chest, feeling the careful rise of his breathing and steady thump under his skin.

Only half an hour into the movie, a resounding snore escaped Cuddy's lips, causing House to jump. He leaned down and looked at her, her eyes closed, her breaths deep and slow. With the hand that wasn't pinned down by her body, which was sprawled all over the bed, he pulled the stray hairs out of her face and behind Cuddy's ear. He observed the severe and defined contour of her jaw line, the way her soft skin made a flawless plain up to her high cheekbones. As he looked at her eyes, surrounded by soft creases of skin dusted with shimmering brown, she breathed another violent snore. House resisted laughing at the loud and disturbing sound erupting from such an adeptly beautiful creature. He focused his attention back to the television screen; his hand weaved into the deep tangles of Cuddy's hair.

The movie ended after many minutes of a frantic Jodie, leaving House in silence and darkness. He used his free hand to turn on the nearest lamp. Cuddy's eyes flickered open, lifting her head so that the curls fell back into her eyes, searching the room, clearly having momentarily forgotten where she was and why.

"Did I really fall asleep?"

"Yeah, and you snored through the entirety of my movie."

"Oh," her lips curled inward with embarrassment.

"It's okay; it was a horrible movie anyways."

She scanned the room, tugging her flowing skirt over her knees and re-adjusting her top to cover the laced black bra that was peeking out. They both racked their brains for something, anything to say.

"I should probably go," she reasoned, slowly sliding out of the bed. House sighed, still trying to come up with something to say, some good reason for her to stay. Thinking of nothing, he also began to make his way from the warm, safe haven of the bed.

"Oh, don't worry about me," she quickly ushered him back into the bed, "I think I can find my way to your door," she smiled.

"If you say so, boss," he rolled his eyes and fell back into his bed, his leg calling out thanks to her.

Cuddy reached across the bed to him, giving him a brief, but firm kiss, one hand on his shoulder used to steady herself. She gave him a deep and sensuous look before beginning to stand again. House's hand leapt to the back of her neck, amongst her ringlets, and pulled her lips back to him, slowly caressing her with the most careful and comforting kiss she could remember. Strong hands held the back of her neck and her tiny waist, and the gentle feel of him against her made every inch of her skin feel warmed. It felt so safe and it felt so right. He refused to let his lips leave hers, and though she was surprised, she responded to the kindness in his touch feverishly, her lips moving more quickly as she pressed herself against his chest. She forced him back onto his pillow and straddled him, the look in her eyes anything but pure. Emotion had seized her suddenly. She wanted nothing other than to kiss him passionately, to feel his body hold her close.

She was definitely not leaving now.

Both of their shirts removed, the lacy bra that had peeped out of her top earlier fully exposed, House's hands held her tiny ribcage, the space between their lips closing once again. Taking control once more, his tongue entertained the roof of her mouth, a shudder going throughout her body, making her limbs feel weak. His hands crept up along her back to the place where her bra clasped, unhooking it and watching it slowly fall off her shoulders. He picked it off carefully and tossed it to the side. They both were totally still for a precious moment as his eyes examined her exposed upper body and it's every flawless plane. He gently rolled her onto her back, kissing the tight skin on her stomach. Nipping at her silky surface, he moved up, across her breasts and along that striking collarbone. He massaged her neck with his strong lips while Cuddy made work of quickly unzipping his jeans and pushing them down past his knees. He assisted her, kicking them away.

Cuddy felt all of her other thoughts slipping away. All that she knew was that she wanted him. All of him. She felt as though they were moving fast as he pulled the skirt away from her body, but she didn't care. Everything seemed to go fast with them. Only a little over three weeks ago, she had merely been his boss and he had simply been her most difficult employee, but in this short time he had gone from a long-lost college fancy to some flame inside her, new as ever. Thin lips kneaded hers again and she kissed him even harder than before, holding the back of his head so he couldn't have escaped even if had wanted to. Fingers danced up her leg, taking hold of the side of the black panties, her last piece of clothing.

Yes, Cuddy thought to herself, things were moving very fast. But she liked them that way.


	17. Judgement Day

Long time, no new chapter, eh? But I'm back and better than ever! How ya been? Here's a little to keep you going.

Reviews make my world go round!

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Chapter 17: Judgment Day**

House awakened to the clattering of pans in his kitchen for the third time since Cuddy had shown up at his door on Friday night. He hated being awakened early, but this was so much better than the deafening beep of his alarm clock. The sound of Cuddy preparing eggs almost made him willing to get up. _Almost._

Only a short time later the door creaked open and the thin silhouette in the doorway called to him.

"You hungry, or are you going to lie there all day?" sh snapped.

Ooh, he thought as he threw away the covers, she sounds irritable. What did I do now?

He wandered into the kitchen where the same silhouette stood over two plates of scrambled eggs with mushrooms and cheese with her head hung. He snuck up behind her and placed a kiss on her temple, noticing her hair was leaving droplets on the back of his large t-shirt that she wore.

"Already took a shower?" he picked up his plate and fork, "Too bad. I was hoping I could join you."

"Shame," Cuddy replied unenthusiastically.

"What's up with you?"

Cuddy stared at him accusingly, stopping the forkful of breakfast headed for his mouth in its tracks. He clearly should have known what was wrong. Uh oh.

"It's Wednesday," she said with a tight lip.

He waited for the rest to be cleared up. Nothing. Wednesday, Wednesday, what is wrong with Wednesdays? His eyes avoided her as he thought of any explanation for this sort of mood. What the hell happens on Wednesday?

"Oh. Board meeting," his brain finally formed the right words. She continued to eat, leaning against the counter. Then, quite suddenly and violently, she dropped the plate in the sink, only three bites, at most, taken from it.

"I'm going home," she announced furiously, "and I don't be late or, god so help me, I _will_ fire you, if it's the last thing I do." Then she tore her things off the couch and slammed the door behind her. He stared at the door in shock until he heard an engine start up and quickly fade.

Only three hours later, Cuddy sat under the scrutiny of a long table of doctors, all of them holding her very fate in the palms of their hands. Thank heaven, House had been on time. No surprise, after her sudden burst of rage this morning. On this day, more than any other, she wanted to show everyone that no matter what, she was House's boss and that was that. Being head over heels for him aside, she was perfectly qualified to keep him in line. Maybe even overqualified.

She didn't even bother to listen to the arguments. She knew the two sides. Those who thought this would change everything for the worst, and those who thought a change couldn't be so bad. It didn't matter, because both of them were wrong. This wasn't a change at all. Loving House wasn't something new. And nothing would be different, except for saving some money on gas due to riding in with House. However, she couldn't tell them that. No way. Her pathetic story about dormant feelings for her employee hidden away for twenty years would certainly not be a good mark on her reputation.

"Dr. Cuddy is the only doctor qualified for this job," Wilson said loud and clear, "you can't fire her. This hospital would fall apart. Heck, House would probably burn it down after her replacement fired him," Cuddy laughed to herself. True, she thought, true. "No one else could tolerate House," Wilson continued, "and as Cuddy has said thousands of times in the past, he is an asset to the hospital, whether or not we'd like to admit it."

Cuddy hadn't though about House's job, but Wilson was probably right. House would get fired right away if anyone else was in her place. If they let her go, they were basically handing House to unemployment too. And then they'd be in a funny spot.

"Dr. Cuddy," a voice said through the muck filling her brain, "we're voting. You have to leave the room."

She walked out into the hall in a daze to find none other than House himself. He sat, head on his cane, iPod plugged into his ears. She strolled over to him and pulled the little buds out of his ears, startling him.

"Is it over?" he said automatically.

"No. They're voting right now." She sat next to him, crossing her legs and leaning against the wall.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm just fine," Cuddy replied nonchalantly, "yourself?"

"Fine," he let one of his cheeks fill with air as he stared at the door thoughtfully.

Silence. They both tangled themselves in their thoughts, which remained parallel, wandering from possible scenarios that could play out when the door opened. Cuddy began to feel strangled. Strangled by the long braided rope of deliberations her mind had made for herself. Just as soon as she believed the silence would kill her, the door opened and Wilson emerged. The couple stood simultaneously. Wilson looked from one eager face to the other with a solemn stare. Cuddy nearly crumbled.

"I…" her voice faded away.

Wilson's expression slowly morphed. A smile appeared wide across his features.

"You didn't really think they were going to fire you, did you? I'm more convincing than you know."


	18. Grand Finale

Heyheyhey. I felt really bad today, and of course, that means I must find some way to make me feel better. What better way than writing some yummy fluff and funny stuff to finish off our Huddy's little bet. Despite the title of the chapter, this is NOT the last one.

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Tap, tap tap.

"Is House here yet?" Cuddy asked as she peered into the diagnostics conference room, sounding a little bit too anxious.

"I haven't seen him," Cameron replied.

"No idea," Foreman agreed.

"Why?" Chase added. Cuddy raced off down the hall without responding. She glanced at her watch as she walked, finding that it was already twelve thirty. It was Thursday, she was going to have to leave for ballet soon. She only barely knocked before walking into Wilson's office.

"Do you know where House is?" she quickly inquired.

"No. I figured you did."

"No. Can I use your phone before I go to check the roof?"

"Um, go ahead," Wilson picked the phone out of its cradle and handed it to her. She quickly dialed and held it to her ear. It rang five times before House's always oh-so-clever answering machine raddled off an excuse for not answering.

"House, it's perfectly fine if you don't want to come to dance today, in fact, I'm rather pleased. But you still have to come to work. And if you prefer your clinic hours closer to the minimal end of the spectrum, I'd suggest arriving here within half an hour. So get off your ass and over here, and if you don't, what I make you do tomorrow will be twice as bad."

Cuddy dropped the phone back on the hook and bid Wilson farewell. Bounding on to the roof, she found herself alone staring at the sun directly over her head. She wondered at how House had given up on the bet so easily, hiding at home. Probably didn't like the tights, she thought. She shrugged, turning to walk back to her office. It was fun to laugh at him while it lasted.

She sifted through emails, threw out old memos on her desk, called one donor, and replied to one complaint before calling to her assistant and asking her to see if House's bike was in the parking lot. No, she replied, no sign of House. Cuddy grabbed a salad from the cafeteria, and took one more round in the hospital to see if anyone had heard from House. Finding that she didn't have time to wait for him anymore, she jumped in the car and drove off towards Patterson School of Ballet.

Cuddy took the time in the car to think of various options for torturing House with this bet won. Clinic duty? Interns? She wanted to think of something clever, but drew a blank. She felt House's absence intensified as she pulled into the parking lot and climbed out of the car. Georgia sat at the desk, as usual, greeting her on her way in. Cuddy was surprised to find that she did not comment on the absence of "Dr. Greg". Cuddy made her way the dressing room, throwing on a new outfit and carefully pulling her mangled hair back into a messy bun. She found that she was still fifteen minutes early, giving her plenty of time to pick out music for class. She exited the dressing room, running into one student who was coming to change. After a quick greeting, she continued on into the classroom to find something she did not expect.

There stood House, having donned his tights once again.

"You should know that I never lose a bet."

"Fabulous," Cuddy said with a bitter tone, "Any reason you didn't come to work today?"

"I was brushing up on some old moves."

"Oh," Cuddy said, assuming that she wasn't supposed to understand what he meant. She began to cross the room towards the stereo and the piles upon piles of CDs.

"Nuh-uh-uh," House called teasingly, "I'm in charge today."

"Excuse me?"

"I've picked the music because I'm teaching today."

Cuddy was left in a state of shock, confusion, annoyance, and utter speechlessness. Her students filed in over time, and she was left simply staring with a dropped jaw and raised eyebrow, totally motionless. If only he could leave her this dumbfounded all the time, he thought. The clock silently struck two o'clock, and House wandered up to the front of the studio, guiding the flabbergasted woman in a leotard along with him.

"Hello," everyone stared intensively at him, "I'm teaching today, rather than our beloved Lisa, because, as you can see, she's in a state of permanent disbelief," she was staring up at House numbly, "and today, we are going to do some partner work. Everybody line up."

No one said anything. Cuddy's face was remolded into a look of irritation. The students, short, tall, young, old, female, and… female, all stood together in front of House's speculation.

"Man," he pointed to the first, "woman," he pointed at another, "man, woman, man, woman, man, woman," he continued pointing to each of the students and reciting these words until they were all assigned a role. He turned to his lovely lady, "woman," he grinned, pointing at her. "Man," he concluded, pointing finally, to none other than himself.

"Okay. Now find a partner of the opposite sex. You," he eyed Cuddy, "are my partner."

"So here's how it's going to work. As everybody knows, the man always leads," House's voice dripped away in her head. She let him carry her as he demonstrated, unaware of anything but herself. What a strange occurrence, she simply thought. House volunteering to teach. House knowing how to dance. House looking so handsome as their bodies molded to one another's, his hands holding her tightly.

"And spin!" she heard shouted in her ear, and she was spun like a top, the world passing by in a crazy whirl. "Okay. I think we're ready to go." He pressed play, an upbeat tune played from all corners of the room, and House took hold of her again. A man's voice sang loud and clear.

_You can dance-every dance with the guy  
__Who gives you the eye, let him hold you tight  
__You can smile-every smile for the man  
__Who held your hand neath the pale moon light  
__But don't forget who's takin' you home  
__And in whose arms you're gonna be  
__So darlin' save the last dance for me_

"Worried about tomorrow?" he whispered in her ear.

"Should I be?"

"You have to do whatever my little heart desires, I would think so."

"Hah, I've survived your insanity for years. I think I've got it."

"Spin," he commanded. She twirled once again.

"Where do you get this from?" she asked, referring to the dance.

"Oh please, this is essential knowledge. The only way to pick up babes."

"Oh, never gotten that one."

"That's because you're not a babe, clearly."

"I'm not really sure whether or not to be offended."

The last catch chord of the song rang out, and all the students turned to him expectantly.

"It's a compliment," he stated, and then turned to the class once again.


	19. Winnings

**Chapter 19: Winnings**

House gazed at his the tennis ball sitting on his desk as he scratched his head. It was early- way too early. Seven, actually. But he knew he couldn't be late today. Today was the day. He had won the bet, fair and square, and today was the day that he could have whatever he wanted. So he had to be here before Cuddy. She hadn't slept at his house last night so he couldn't predict what time she would get there. So he sat and he waited.

"Greg," the ever so memorable voice whispered to him, so close that he could feel her lips against the skin of his face. He had dozed off. She grabbed his wrist and forced a coffee into his hand. He took a quick gulp and opened his eyes to see that she had walked back around to the other side of his desk and was watching him.

"Today's the day, is it not? I have to do anything you want."

"Mhmm," House said. He took another sip of the strong coffee, "is this an offering to try to soften the punishment?" he mused as he held the cup in the air.

"Is it working?"

"Not at all."

"So, what do you want me to do?"

House stood. His knees felt weak, his heart felt like it might pound so hard that it would fall right out. He didn't bother grabbing his cane. Setting the cup down on the corner of his desk, he began to limp towards her. Cuddy leapt and held his arm, afraid that he would fall.

"Okay?" she leaned over and looked into his eyes, and House lifted his head.

"The first thing I want you to do," he let the words slowly fall off of his tongue and he looked at her rather slyly. Though his voice was confident in its trickery, his insides felt helpless and his mind tried to reconcile the guaranteed insanity that was about to ensue. His hand felt its way into his pocket and held the square, soft object he had held onto so dearly for the past twenty-four hours. His next sentence didn't sound as clever and sure.

"The first thing I want you to do," he repeated, lifting the box out of his pocket, "Is to agree to marry me." He opened it and held it out in the small space between them. Cuddy's eyes followed him, expressionless. She could not comprehend the words that had just escaped his mouth.

Nothing was said. He smiled down at her blank eyes. Despite the expression, she looked stunning, as always. The first light of morning fell onto her through the window, framing her face. He could see her breathe. The rising and falling of her chest as she let the thousands of thoughts process themselves. House suddenly didn't feel so worried. He simply allowed the words to hang over them like a thick mist. He simply waited.

"Greg," she finally managed to say, "don't you think it's awfully soo-"

"Lisa," he interrupted and looked her straight in the eye, "if anything, it's much too late. You had something for me ever since we went to school together. I think that I've really wanted to be with you since you cared enough to hire me when no one else would. I loved that you cared. And I've waited too long for you to just turn me down now. You've waited too long."

She was silenced once again.

"It's," House bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, forming his words. "I'm tired of being miserable, Lisa. I've been the miserable bastard far too long. Everyone knows that."

A bit of water caught the light and shined in House's eye. A tear. A single, quiet tear was running down the right side of Cuddy's face. With his free hand, he reached up and softly wiped it away with his thumb.

"It's okay," his hand fell to the sleeve of her blouse, "you don't have to-"

"Yes," she quickly stared into his eyes.

"You-"

"Of course I'll marry you. I have to do whatever you say, right?" she gave a small smile, but she wasn't kidding. She wanted nothing more than to have House as her own for the rest of her life. The idea that the bent and broken man before her had changed so much that he was asking such a thing was just unbelievable. How he had changed as time went on, and no matter how much he changed, she loved him just the same. Of course she wanted to marry him. Of course.

House took his hand carefully away from her arm and picked the small, silver band with a single square diamond out of its box. Setting down the black velvet case, he held up her left hand and with a single move, slid the ring on to her delicate finger. Her gaze remained on it for a few more seconds.

"Do you like it?" he said, trying to read her thoughts.

"It's perfect," she looked at him again. Another tear was there. Her white teeth formed at relieved smile. He reached up again and wiped the tear away. His hand rested on her cheek and he pressed his lips against hers momentarily.

"Good, because the lady at the store was a bitch. Don't want to have to go deal with her again."

Cuddy laughed. There was the suspense breaker. He was yet just the same as always, and that's why she wanted him so badly.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The three young doctors stared up at their mentor blankly. None of them understood a word of his newest lame metaphor involving golf. The symptoms were listed on the board, the history was taken. They all look intently from the white board, to House's face, and back again. They had all been silent for at least a minute, and it was getting to the point of almost being awkward. Then, the glass door swung open behind them.

"Power Suit Woman, here with her two funbag sidekicks to save the day!" House announced, "Care to tell the class what my patient has?"

"Auto-immune," Cuddy replied, simply glancing at the list, not even really caring.

"Incorrect. But don't worry; you're still my favorite superhero."

"You paged me. What do you want now?"

"A Reuben."

Chase and Foreman had chosen to ignore the typical conversation between superior and subordinate. They knew about the bet and figured that House must have won, because he had been demanding things all day long. Cameron, however, was observing and suddenly picked up on an important piece of information that the two men would have never noticed. A shiny something grasped Cuddy's left hand, causing the doctor with pure green eyes to gape disbelievingly, totally ignoring House's ridiculous comments. She suddenly seized Cuddy's hand and held it in front of her face for a closer look.

"Is this an engagement ring?" Cameron squeaked.

Not expecting this development in the dialogue, her colleagues looked up. They also gaped as Cuddy flushed visibly and looked over at her fiancé. The eyes of all three of his employees followed inquisitively. House tried to remain looking indifferent, but failed with all of the nosy stares poking at him

"Okay, you got me! I'm Power Suit _Man_," he said in mock defeat. He looked up at the dark haired woman laughing at the image of him wearing a power suit, "Keeping a secret identity is so difficult! I don't know how you've done it all these years!"

"Can I have money to pay for your Reuben or am I paying again, like I did on your coffee and your newspaper and your M&Ms and your bag of chips?"

"Please woman, I just bought that rock," he pointed at her hand, which was still cradled in Cameron's as she examined it, "You really think I can afford to buy food right now?"

Cuddy let out a sigh. She looked down at the younger woman, who released her captive hand.

"Congrats!" Cameron said in her tiny voice.

"Thanks," Cuddy replied awkwardly. She then looked back up at House, "Fine. I'll get you a sandwich," and she left the room.

They all looked at him expectantly. House was sifting through papers, pretending to not notice them. Chase looked to Foreman, Foreman looked to Cameron, and Cameron looked at House, and then looked back at them again. She shrugged, and chose to be the first one to speak.

"When?"

"Pardon?" House turned curiously.

"When did you propose?"

"Oh. This morning," he paused thoughtfully, "and it was less of a proposal and more of a demand." The door, once again, swung open, interrupting their differential… sort of.

"You proposed to Cuddy?" Wilson nearly screamed.

"I can't tell if you're outraged or ecstatic. So for now, I'm not going to answer."

"And she said yes?" Wilson continued to yell.

"Still not quite clear. I'm reserving my right to remain silent."

Wilson let out a deep breath. Taking a moment to calm himself, he left House an open window to create a cushion for attacks on his ability to commit, or other such crap. But, much to House's relief, it didn't come.

"I think it's a good thing. Just- please, House, are you sure?"

House pondered the possibility of the conversation ending there. This was not probable, knowing Wilson. He didn't want to have this conversation with Cameron, Chase, and Foreman sitting right there, adding fuel to the fire of their gossip trains.

"It's meningitis. Yes, I know that none of the symptoms fit. Trust me, it is. Now go. Cure him, and then go spread your gossip to every nurse in the hospital- the big news about the woman on top," at his encouraging, they all scrambled to get out the door.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Jimmy, you've been telling me to move on for longer than I can remember. I've moved on. This is it," Wilson looked at him long and hard, psychoanalyzing him, surely.

"Okay," he finally said, "am I going to be your best man?"

"Who the hell else would be?"

Cuddy entered the conference room again, sandwich bag in hand. She smiled at Wilson before handing the bag off to House, who snatched it and proceeded to his office, Cuddy and Wilson in tow. He took out a knife and cut the sandwich in half, still standing.

"You're still his slave for the day?" Wilson questioned.

"Ah, he can't afford food for himself."

"And you think I haven't noticed."

"Delicious sandwich," House managed to say with his mouth full of food, "good work. Care for a bite?"

"If you're offering up food, who am I to refuse?" House held out the sandwich and she delicately took a tiny bite. "Hmm, it is good," she agreed. Both of them swallowed.

"You know what tastes even better?"

"I think so."

A very firm touch of the lips sent jolts through Cuddy's body, a feeling radiating from the inside out. House noticed her distinct smell, capturing as much of it as he could in the short second. They kissed for only a brief moment, and then both looked accusingly at Wilson, who stood uncomfortably, eyes pasted to the floor. When he realized they were staring at him, he looked up from one face to the other.

"Wilson, I think I hear bald-headed children calling," he put on a tiny high-pitched voice, "'Jimmy! Save us!'"

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Eeeeeeeeeee!!!!!! Okay, we're almost there... one more chapter. Get excited!

Review and I will give you a big fat hug. And let me tell you, I give the best hugs.

I'm going to take this oppurtunity to just say THANK YOU SO MUCH. Y'all who read this story are so nice, and all your support really helps me. I don't think I'm that good, so your reviews always make me really happy. So thank you for reading!


	20. The Beat to the Very Last Dance

I think 26 days is enough of a wait, don't you? Enjoy the last of it!

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**Chapter 20: The Beat to the Very Last Dance**

House couldn't concentrate worth a damn. How was he supposed to, he was getting married tomorrow! It would be like Cuddy to remind him of all the paperwork he had to catch up on at this particular time. Two in the afternoon, the day before he was getting married. He had to go get something to settle him. An espresso would do. He gave Cameron a smirk as she looked questioningly from the conference room, and wandered off to get himself some caffeine.

Within moments, Cuddy opened the door to the conference room to find Cameron's anxious and curious face.

"Where's House?"

"He left his office just a couple minutes ago," Cameron offered.

Cuddy sighed and put her hands over her face, plopping down in the nearest chair. Cameron looked at her inquisitively as the older woman sat with her eyes closed and her fingers pressed against the bridge of her nose. She hoped that Cuddy wasn't second guessing herself, because House would definitely never get over that one.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked. Cuddy looked up at her as though she had just realized that she was there.

"Oh. Yeah, I'm okay," she looked away and bit her lip for a moment, "I'm getting married," she said as though it were the most ridiculous thing.

"Yeah…" Cameron slowly responded, "Don't sound so surprised."

"It's not the fact that I'm getting married. It's who I'm getting married to. It's like it just hit me. It's so unexpected. But it feels like it was," she paused, "inevitable."

"I know," Cameron gave her a comforting smile, "I think everybody sees that."

"I just don't know."

"You'll be okay."

"I hope so."

House entered his office again and looked from Cameron to Cuddy. Having a little heart to heart, he assumed. He sat down behind his desk, having totally forgotten about paperwork, and looked out the window. The door to the conference room opened behind him.

"House?" his fiancée's voice asked.

"Hmm?"

She hesitated.

"I'm getting married," she said with an emphasis on the last word, "to you," she added. House swiveled in his chair to look at her.

"Please tell me you didn't just realize this."

"It's just…" she started.

"Yes?"

"They're scraping the letters C-U-D-D-Y off the door to my office and replacing it with H-O-U-S-E."

"Won't that be interesting," House stood and she wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up at him, "No one will be able to call us by our surnames anymore. We'd never know which House they wanted to talk to."

"I don't think it'll be a problem. Patients never want to talk to you."

"Hey! I'm a very comforting presence!"

"Oh, that's right. You're almost as cuddly as a security blanket."

"Hard ass," House jokingly insulted.

"Pain in the ass!" Cuddy stabbed back.

"Liar!"

"Cheater!"

"Criminal!"

"Addict!"

Their playful offences were quickly silenced with long passionate kiss that ended the static longing to pass between them. They caressed each other for a endless moment, Cuddy standing on her tip-toes, her arms still wrapped around House's midsection. His hands held the back of her head and twisted amongst her hair.

"I downloaded our song," House said as she settled back onto flat feet and beamed up at him.

"We have a song?"

"Of course we do," he scoffed as he walked over to his desk and scrolled through his iPod, "every couple has a song." He set the iPod down in the speakers and let a buoyant tune fill his office. He waited until a look of recognition swept over her features. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Ah," she sighed, "our song."

"I told you so."

He placed his hands on Cuddy's hips and they swayed to the cheery music; she pressed her ear against the soft fabric of his tee-shirt. His heart thumped in time with their song, measuring the beat of their happiness and counting down the moments until she became the one and only Mrs. House. It had a certain ring to it. Lisa House. The steady pounding made it more definite with every passing instant. Ba-boom, his heart said, it's coming. Ba-boom, you're getting married. Ba-boom.

_Oh, I know, that the music's fine like sparkling wine…_

Ba-boom.

Her arms draped carefully around House's neck, placing her delicate watch just close enough for House to hear it as the seconds were unquestionably marked. The drawn out seconds couldn't have been any better. Her watch counted the perfect moments in her presence and the long awaited time when she was his and only his. To love, to care for, to live for. Click, click, she's beautiful. Click, click, she's mine. Click. Click. Click.

Ba-boom.

_Go and have your fun- laugh and sing…_

Click.

Ba-boom.

"Greg?"

Ba-boom

A smile.

Click.

"Lisa?"

_But while we're apart, don't give your heart to anyone…_

Ba-boom.

A happy sigh.

"I love you."

Ba-boom.

Click.

"Good."

_And don't forget __who's__ taking you home…_

Ba-boom.

An annoyed glance.

Click.

"…Because I love you too."

Ba-boom.

_And in whose arms you're __gonna__ be…_

A hand holding a body close.

Click.

Ba-boom.

Click.

Ba-boom.

Click

Ba-boom.

_So, darling, save the last dance for me._

****

**FIN.**

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I really really do hope you liked it. Hopefully the end was acceptable. I thought so. Thank you ever so much (a hundred thousand squared times) for reading, I do hope you'll read my other stories. I'm working on something new that's funny to fill this gap. I do just love writing funny things. It's nice to finish a story though, isn't it?

Anywho, yes. Review? Merci.

Love,  
Sara


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